Only the Ring Finger Knows
by AoiGensou
Summary: The war is over, and school is back in session. Harry and Draco find themselves mysteriously with matching rings, and Harry doesn't know why... HD Slash / / abandoned fic
1. Prologue

Only the Ring Finger Knows

By Lizzie

A/N: I'm putting off my FFVII Seph/Vin fic for this one, because this idea wouldn't leave me alone (and no one's reviewed the latest chapter…). It's directly taken from a manga of the same name by Satoru Kannagi. No plagiarism is intended; I'm just using the concept. So don't sue! I'm a poor vampire (phlebotomist)!

Story concept belongs to Satoru Kannagi (with tweaking by me to suit my purposes)

Characters belong to J.K. Rowling

Thank you, and enjoy!

Prologue

The war had been grueling. More people had lost their lives than I'd care to remember, on both sides of the conflict. In the end, it had come down to Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hermione, Malfoy, Snape and me against Voldemort and a handful of his Death Eaters. It had been an unspoken agreement that the others would take care of the Death Eaters, leaving me to deal with the Dark Lord myself. I knew that Dumbledore was watching to make sure that I wouldn't be left alone in the event of an emergency, but I still resented the fact that everyone assumed that I was the only one who could defeat the Dark Lord. Perhaps I was, but we'll never know, because no one ever tried.

I know that I sound bitter right now, but I suppose it's to be expected. I don't really resent anyone now, I've gotten over those feelings, but I look back and find that everything that had been done was to ensure that I would be the one to face Voldemort. The whole wizarding world had really placed all of their eggs in my basket, and truthfully they're lucky that I didn't break them.

In the end, it hadn't been an Avada Kedavra that had killed Voldemort, not directly at least. I had tried many times to aim the killing curse at his foul visage, but he had blocked them each time. I was starting to lose the hope that he could be killed at all, and I was starting to feel fatigued from all the energy I'd been using both attacking and defending. Voldemort was rapidly gaining the upper hand, and I'll never forget the look of glee on his face as he hit me with a particularly nasty curse.

I had doubled over in pain, it was one of the most exquisitely painful moments of my life, and for a moment I thought that Voldemort was going to finish me then and there. When it didn't happen immediately, I looked up. He was standing two feet from me, a sadistic gleam in his creepy eyes, his wand pointed at me. I knew at that moment that I was going to die, and there was nothing that I could possibly do about it.

At that point, a happy accident occurred. Malfoy, in his infinite wisdom (please ignore my sarcasm), decided then to try and heal me. I assume that he was trying to heal me, at least. But, in the heat of the moment, his aim was off, and the brunt of the spell struck Voldemort rather than me. I got some of the residual effects, making the pain of the curse lessen, and Voldemort got a chest full of positive energy.

I suppose that it was the fact that it was positive energy to his negative energy that did it. He stumbled backwards, clutching at his chest as if he were in the throes of a heart attack, and nearly tripped over a rock behind him. I used his vulnerability to my advantage, and gathered the rest of my energy around myself to be drawn on as I cast the final spell of the final battle in the largest wizarding war in nearly three centuries.

I find it funny that I cast an Unforgivable, and have not been prosecuted for it. It just shows you the double standard of the laws. People will overlook the breaking of laws as long as the result is favorable for the powers that be.

When I confronted Malfoy after the battle's end to thank him for saving my life and the rest of the world, he merely sneered at me in typical Malfoy fashion. I believe his exact words to me then were "Merely looking out for my own survival, Potter." I hardly should have been surprised considering our history and his attitude.

All this happened during the spring of our sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

My story happened during our seventh year of school.

After the war, things were both the same and different. Classes went on as if nothing had happened out of the ordinary, though those classes were missing some familiar faces. Casualties of war. Those that were still attending looked somewhat the worse for wear. Ron, for example, wore a continually saddened face – his brother Percy was lost on a Death Eater raid of the Ministry of Magic, and Bill was in a magical coma in St. Mungo's due to a curse he fell to. I could empathize, and often comforted the redhead when he succumbed to the overwhelming feelings of sadness he experienced. Hermione was a huge help with him when I was feeling under the weather myself.

There were examples of such changes all over the school, but overall none were very drastic. War had changed things, changed people, but it was for the better. It brought out the natural resilience known to humankind, the adaptability that had made it possible for the survival of the species. Of course, there were a couple of exceptions to the changes. Some were not small; some were not for the better. The biggest exception was Draco Malfoy. I swear, I didn't think that the boy had it in him.

It seems that in the months since the end of the war, Malfoy had gotten an attitude adjustment. It started showing itself toward the summer holidays of our sixth year, and apparently it stuck. At first, people were wary of the 'new and improved' Malfoy, and generally steered clear of him. Especially the Gryffindors understandably, he had been a great git to them for most of six years.

When his attitude didn't change after the summer, people reluctantly started trusting that it was permanent. Some of the rumors I heard about his change of heart were that he no longer had to worry about impressing his father, or the Dark Lord, or other such drivel. I myself thought that he was biding his time, planning something spectacular (because nothing Malfoy does is ever mediocre). I didn't trust him one bit.

But I had my reasons.

After-chapter noteage: Well there's a start at least. A setting-the-stage chapter. Is it unreasonable to withhold the next part until after I've received at least 5 reviews? Maybe, maybe not, but I want reviews, dammit! So do so, reviewing brings faster chapters!


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Why is it you only notice mistakes after you've posted the story? I don't know about this whole Harry POV thing, I'm having trouble writing it. I think I'm going to go over to a third person POV like I usually do. Input anyone?

For this chapter, I'm going to write it in third person, and get opinions. If enough people think my first person Harry POV was cooler, I'll rewrite it in first person, and stick with that, okay? So cast your votes!

Chapter 1

It was a lovely Thursday at the beginning of December, and the Great Hall was filled with students for dinner. There was the ambient chatter that was normally there, making the large room feel warm and welcoming. People were having a pleasant afternoon, with the exception of a few.

Harry Potter was pushing the food on his plate around without purpose, listening to his housemates complain. And about Draco Malfoy, no less. This in itself would not have been uncommon in years past, and was in fact a regular occurrence. Nowadays, however, complaints about Malfoy had lessened to the point of nonexistence, at least among the female population of Hogwarts. The males were a different story.

Malfoy's change in personality had brought the inevitable effect of attracting girls. Every girl from every house (and half the males) had looked at him longingly at least once since the beginning of the school year. Of course, this had happened before; when Malfoy was still the school's number one jerk. It had just happened in secret, the casters of the looks afraid of being made fun of or looked at strangely for desiring the person who could make anyone's life a living hell. The difference now was that there was no need for surreptitiousness, because of the change. Malfoy was now one of the best-liked people in school.

Because of this (it also didn't hurt that he'd been made Head Boy), many of the guys had problems getting and keeping girlfriends. They all were "waiting for Draco Malfoy to notice them." The girlfriendless sector of the school thought that this was ridiculous; Malfoy had shown no intention of becoming anyone's boyfriend, or even dating anyone at all. The guys thought that this was because Malfoy reveled in the attention.

So there Harry was, forced to listen to the gripes of his housemates over his former arch nemesis. Today it was the woes of Neville Longbottom.

"Why? It's not fair! Parvati told me that she liked me, why did she turn me down?" the poor boy bemoaned. The last few years had been kind to Neville, he had grown into his frame and had shot up nearly half a foot in the summer between fifth and sixth year.

"I heard her whispering to her sister in the hall the other day," Seamus leaned in conspiratorially, and everyone within earshot did the same, "but I don't know if I should tell you what I heard."

A collective glare was leveled at the Irishman, who grinned back. "Tell us Seamus."

Grinning, Seamus relented. "She told her that she thinks you're cute and everything, but she saw 'Draco' smiling at her." He said the Slytherin's name with a funny expression plastered on his face, and the entire group burst out in laughter, with the exception of Harry and Neville.

"You're putting me on!" Harry exclaimed indignantly while Neville's mouth hung open. Seamus shook his head.

"Honest to god truth, I swear."

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly. Everyone was being ridiculous about the entire thing. He simply couldn't believe that the entire population of the school was head over heels in love with Malfoy.

"I… I… I wish I could hate him," Neville finally found his voice again after several minutes of being frozen agape, "but he's just so nice this year! He's been tutoring me in potions…"

"He isn't!" Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had everyone gone mad? Were they under Imperious? Did he miss an important meeting somewhere along the way?

Neville nodded. "Yes, and he isn't being rude, or snide, or mean about it at all. It's very helpful… I haven't blown up a cauldron in nearly three weeks!"

Harry had the good grace not to laugh. He settled instead for a neutral look.

"Neville, Malfoy is the reason why you aren't at this moment making eyes at Parvati. Don't you resent him for that? And haven't any of you, for one moment, even considered the fact that Malfoy is putting on the 'nice guy' act? For fuck's sake, he's tormented us for the better part of our school life! How can any of you buy the fact that he suddenly 'saw the light?'"

"Harry, calm down," Hermione admonished. "Don't you think all of us are pretty good judges of character?"

"Well… That doesn't mean that Malfoy isn't faking it. I mean who goes from wannabe evil fucker to perfect angel in less than six months? And he's had his entire life to practice!"

"I really don't think that Malfoy would willingly tutor Neville in potions, and be nice about it, unless he actually did have a change of heart. He didn't give Neville the time of day before, only pushed him around."

"He even offered to do it, I didn't even have to ask," Neville added.

Harry closed his eyes in frustration. "This has to be some sort of plot." This statement fell on deaf ears, and he couldn't quite believe that his friends and housemates of more than six years could be so accepting of this. 'Temporary insanity, that has to be it. They'll come around, they'll see that this is some elaborate ploy… they have to!'

"Have you noticed how he doesn't seem to notice you any more, Harry?" Hermione mused, chewing on a slice of roast beef.

"Yeah, and that bugs me."

"Why, you miss the attention?" Seamus teased Harry, laughing a little.

"No, I just know what I'm up against with a mocking, snide Malfoy. This new one is completely alien. He's up to something, I'm sure of it!"

"Oh Harry, why can't you accept the fact that people change? They grow up. That's all that Malfoy has done."

"Yeah, mate," Ron piped up, "he's not the same ferret that we all knew and loathed."

"Yeah, right…" Harry's shoulders sagged, and his fork slowed its pushing of his potatoes and beef around his plate.

Neville's huge sigh cut through his thoughts. "I even went and bought matching rings for me and Parvati and everything." He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a set of gold rings with decorative knotwork engraved, and showed them to his friends.

"You're actually buying in to that fad?" Harry looked over at the rings and nearly shook his head in exasperation. During the last two years, it had become a popular thing to get matching rings with people you liked, much like wedding rings but without the commitment. Friends wore their rings on the right ring finger, and more-than-friends (lovers if you will) wore them on the left ring finger. Harry couldn't believe that the fad was still continuing; he had pegged it to last for a year, tops. It was running on two now, and didn't show signs of letting up. Ron and Hermione even had matching rings, on their left hands of course.

"Well, yeah. I thought that we were going to start, y'know, dating," Neville's answer made Harry chuckle. He was so innocent that it was refreshing.

"What are you going on about, mate? You have a ring yourself." Ron finally decided to join in the conversation, after being on the sidelines before. Harry shrugged.

"This doesn't mean the same thing. This thing," Harry held his hand up so that he could look at his ring, a beautiful silver with a band of gold running around through the center, patterned like a vine, "is just something that has sentimental value. And as far as I know, it's the only one of its kind."

Everyone looked curiously over at Harry's right hand. Harry flushed as he found himself, or rather his ring, the object of scrutiny.

"Oh Harry, where did you get this?" Lavender breathed, clearly awed by the ring and how pretty it was. Harry shrugged.

"Can't remember. It was before the war when I got it, I was wandering Diagon Alley and it just caught my eye. At first I was wary of wearing it. That was about the time when the whole 'matching rings' thing started around here, but after I lost it, it just became special to me."

"Lost it? So you found it again?" Seamus asked.

"Sort of. I was washing my hands and I had taken it off, and I left it by the sink in the bathroom in the potions corridor. By the time I had realized that it was there and had gone back for it, it had disappeared. I looked everywhere for it," Ron and Hermione gave knowing looks at this statement; they'd been recruited to help him find the ring, "but it just didn't turn up. I had given up on ever seeing it again, when a few weeks later, it turned up on my table in Transfiguration. I've treasured it ever since."

"Why have you treasured it?" Hermione asked. She hadn't heard this part of the story.

"Well, when you've given up on finding something important to you, and it comes back, that's something to treasure." The people around Harry nodded.

"Did you ever find out who found it and gave it back?" Lavender asked, still entranced by the ring on Harry's finger. Harry shook his head.

"Nope. Whoever it was, though, I wish I could thank them." Everyone smiled at Harry and his wistful expression. Things seemed to quiet down after that, when suddenly, Lavender's eyes darted up and she squealed unexpectedly.

"Draco Malfoy is looking over here!" she said excitedly. "Maybe he's looking for me!" Harry gave a large, exasperated groan and stood from the table amidst argument over whom Malfoy was looking for, his food having barely been touched and forgotten.

"C'mon Neville, let's get outta here." He grabbed the other boy's hand and hauled him up.

"Where are we going, Harry?" Neville allowed him to drag him along.

"We're going to go find something to drink."

"Oh."

Amidst a sea of people all seeking out Draco Malfoy's attention, a disgruntled Harry Potter led a bemused Neville Longbottom out of the Great Hall and back up to Gryffindor Tower. Nobody noticed they'd left.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Harry and Neville had a memorable evening, except for the fact that Harry couldn't remember bits and pieces of it. Not long after they had gotten back to the Tower, Harry raided Seamus' stash of alcohol and started generously doling it out to the both of them. Not too long afterward, Harry was stark raving drunk, and Neville wasn't far behind. With his inebriated state, Harry's tongue loosened and his brain wasn't quick enough to stop himself from using it.

"What's so great about Malfoy anyway?" Harry was heard saying sometime near nine o'clock in the evening, after having been joined in the dorm by Ron, Seamus and Dean, who gladly joined their drinking party.

"Well, besides the fact that everyone thinks he's gorgeous… He's smart, he's witty, he's nice," Harry snorted at this point in Seamus' list.

"Like I said, all a big act. Getting people on his side, going to do something to us all… But I'll stop him. Malfoy isn't going to get the best of me, nuh uh."

"Mate, you're not making any sense," Ron muttered into his bottle of butterbeer.

"'Course I am. Malfoy's a git. Gits don't change their attitude and personality unless they're up to something. Ergo Malfoy's up to something."

"Ergo? Harry, you've been hanging around Hermione too much," Dean snickered.

"Whatev." Harry grabbed another shot of firewhiskey and continued his diatribe. "Just because he's being a little nicer to people, why is everyone falling all over him? It just isn't right! He'd been a dick to most of the school forever! How can he be forgiven so quickly?"

"Don't you believe in second chances?"

"Not for Malfoy…" Harry muttered darkly, downing yet another shot of alcohol. "And Ron, why are you so accepting of this? You used to hate him as much as anyone."

"Oh, well he apologized to me at the end of last year. Apologized to Hermione also, said he regretted the way he'd been acting up till then."

"What?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"Hmm, I wonder…" Seamus said sarcastically, and the entire room burst into giggles, except for Harry, who glared at his friends and reached for the bottle again. Neville pulled it out of his reach.

"I don't think you need any more of this, Harry." He put the cork on the bottle and gave it over to Seamus, who put it back in its place. Harry griped about his drink being taken away and his friends taking his enemy's side against him and that the world hated him before he started drifting off into a drunken stupor. Ron shook his head, and pulled the poor boy up from the floor where he was lounging on to his own bed.

"Sleep'll do you some good, mate."

"Mmmmfnnrgng."

"Good night to you too."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Saying he had a headache would be a major understatement. To Harry, it felt like someone was pounding on the inside of his head with the wrong end of a hammer. His temples throbbed with his heartbeat, and his eyes felt dry and scratchy. His mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. His limbs felt heavy and he most definitely did not want to move from his bed anytime soon.

"Kill me…" he groaned as someone threw open the hangings around his bed and light streamed in, hitting him in the face.

"Hangover?" Ron asked cheerily, pulling the covers off of Harry's body, trying to rouse him.

"Major. Go away." Harry tried to reclaim his lost bedding, but found that he didn't have the will to try and fight with Ron this morning. His best friend was grinning like a madman.

"You're going to be late for breakfast if you don't get up soon, you know." Ron finished uncovering Harry and tried to pull him out of bed. Harry struggled feebly.

"Ron. Shhh. Speak in small syllables." The sounds of the voices in the dormitory were echoing in his brain, adding to the hammer already present, and the thought of food wasn't doing anything for Harry whatsoever. He felt nauseous just imagining what was waiting.

"Heh, to think the Boy Who Lived was brought down by a simple hangover. Who woulda thought?"

"Dun call me that…" Harry growled, pushing Ron away and swinging his legs slowly over the edge of the bed.

"Sorry," Ron replied, not looking sorry at all. "Listen, you go take a shower, it'll do wonders for you, and I'll save you something." Harry nodded, slowly working his way toward standing up, still feeling some of the effects of the drinking binge from the night previous.

"Ron… little help here?" Harry pleaded. Ron gave him a half smile and muttered a sobering charm. It helped with the disorientation, but it did nothing for his headache. Harry didn't feel as nauseous, though. "Thanks."

"Sure thing. See you downstairs." Harry nodded and Ron left. Harry gathered up his things slowly, making his way toward the bathroom. Once there he turned the tap on full blast and adjusted the temperature to a soothing degree, undressed himself and stepped in.

"Stupid Malfoy and his stupid changing without warning." Harry quickly lathered himself up and rinsed off, not wanting to miss all of breakfast. His mutterings about Malfoy never ceased as he toweled off and quickly dressed, not bothering to dry his hair as he usually did, instead leaving it wet and heavy, effectively keeping it from sticking out all over the place as it normally was wont to do. He didn't bother looking in the mirror as he left the bathroom to grab his school things and get himself down to the Great Hall.

Harry walked quietly into the Great Hall and dropped his things on the floor next to the seat that Ron had saved next to him. He sat, grabbed a muffin and began eating as everyone around him spoke in soft tones. Harry couldn't quite make out what they were saying, his head was still pounding from the hangover, and he found that he didn't quite care. The normally soothing ambient noise of the breakfasting students was now a dull ache in his skull and he couldn't wait to get away from it as soon as possible.

"…don't you think, Harry?" Apparently he was being addressed, but Harry didn't know by whom.

"Hmm? Oh, sure…" Harry stood, unable to take the noise any more. "I'm going to the bathroom for a bit, I'll be back." He didn't wait for a response as he sped out of the Great Hall and into the corridor, rushing to the nearest bathroom to get some peace and quiet.

Once there, he walked slowly over to the row of sinks and turned the cold-water tap on, letting it run for a few seconds before dipping one hand in as the other took his glasses off and set them aside. He caught sight of the ring on his right middle finger, and decided to take it off, so that it wouldn't get tarnished. He set the ring down next to the tap and leaned over the sink, scooping up some water and tossing it on his face, trying to will his headache away. He ran his wet fingers through his hair, smoothing it down. A few seconds later, he repeated the process, the cold water helping him little by little to relax himself and start forgetting about his headache.

The third time he did this (or was it the fourth? He'd lost count), the door opened and someone walked in. They went to the sink next to him, just as he was splashing the water, and a majority of the excess landed on the new person.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbled.

"Don't worry about it," a soothing voice said, startling Harry with how smooth it was. "Here, take this." The person reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, holding it out to Harry to dry his face off with. A metallic 'ting' sounded directly after, but Harry ignored it. He took the proffered item gratefully, wiped his eyes off, put his glasses on, and looked up so that he could see who he had splashed and apologize properly. His surprise was apparent, and the hand he had placed on the sink nearly slipped off, pushing his ring off the edge and on to the ground. Harry didn't seem to notice at that moment, however.

"M…Malfoy?" Harry couldn't believe his eyes. Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, and he had actually been civil. The world was going to end. His eyes narrowed into a glare. Malfoy seemed frozen in place for a moment in time, before he regained his composure.

"Potter," he practically spat. Harry felt a thrill run through him. He'd been right! Malfoy was putting on an act!

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. Malfoy shrugged.

"Can't a person go to the bathroom without a grand inquisition?"

"Why this bathroom?" Malfoy looked at Harry as if he were mad.

"It's the closest to the Great Hall you dolt." Harry's cheeks tinged pink as he realized what a stupid question that had been. Instead of admitting that, however, he changed tracks.

"I knew you were bluffing."

"What are you going on about?"

"This whole 'new' you thing. I knew that it would be an act."

"How do you know it isn't?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

"You're not being very nice right now." Harry said matter of factly.

"Well maybe I just don't like you, Potter. Did you ever think of that?" Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest defiantly.

"You don't like most of Gryffindor, and yet people say that you're being nice to them."

"You're a special case."

"Oh yeah? You're a basket case."

"Real original, Potter."

"Why don't you drop the 'nice guy' act and go back to being the ferret that we all know and loathe?"

"Why don't you stop acting like a prick and grow up?" Malfoy bent over to pick something up, turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the bathroom. Harry glared after him, belatedly realizing that he still had Malfoy's handkerchief in his hand. He balled it up and nearly threw it against the wall, but decided last moment to keep it as a reminder of the encounter.

"Shit, class!" Harry panicked that he was going to be late and started rushing out of the bathroom, before remembering that he had taken his ring off and hadn't put it back on yet. He wasn't about to lose his ring again. Kneeling, he reached under the sink where his ring had presumably fallen and groped around until he felt the reassuring cold metal. He didn't even bother slipping it back on before dashing out and into the corridor, racing to his first class of the day. His headache was all but forgotten.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

It had been a day for the books. Not the worst in Harry's recent memory, but still one to remember. Potions had been horrible, as usual, but he had been prepared for that. What he hadn't been prepared for was his cauldron melting and losing all of the points for the assignment and getting assigned a week's detention with Snape for carelessness.

That was enough to ruin his month, really. That, coupled with the Malfoy issue was just really getting to him. Not to mention the fact that suddenly, his ring stopped fitting his finger mysteriously.

He had discovered this while listening to Snape lecture before they got started on the potion du jour. Harry tried to put it on his right middle finger, where it had always gone and always fit, and for some unknown reason it refused to fit. It was as if someone had shrunk the ring, but that was improbable. The only finger that his ring would fit now was his left ring finger, a place that Harry would never wear it.

'Well, never is a bit harsh… but as of now I wouldn't dream of putting my ring there,' he thought wryly to himself.

Harry had put the ring away, determined to figure out what was wrong just as soon as potions was over and he could think, perhaps at lunch. Alas, he didn't actually get the chance to do that at all, because something unexpected happened before Transfiguration that floored Harry.

He had just settled into his seat and was waiting for Professor McGonagall to arrive and start the class. Ron was sitting next to him, Hermione directly in front of him, seated next to Neville. They were having a pleasant conversation, that is until the door to the classroom burst open and one Draco Malfoy was seen standing in the doorway. Harry groaned and put his head on the desk, hoping that Malfoy would just go away. That wasn't to be.

"Potter, where are you?" Malfoy demanded, searching the classroom with his gaze. Spotting the groaning boy with his hair sticking out all over the place (his hair having dried naturally a while ago), he sauntered over and stood next to the desk. Harry looked up, an unhappy expression on his face.

"What is it, Malfoy?"

"Hold out your hand."

"What? Why?"

"I have something of yours, that's why. Now do it." Malfoy sounded impatient. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Fine, whatever." Harry did as he was told. Malfoy smirked.

"That was rather trusting of you, don't you think?" Harry glared.

"Just do what you came to do and leave." Malfoy shrugged one shoulder elegantly and dropped something into Harry's outstretched hand. Harry brought it up to his face and examined it. What he saw made his eyes widen and his mouth hang open. He was holding his ring.

"Wait, that's impossible. I have my ring right here…" Harry reached into a pocket of his robe and brought out an exact replica of the ring that Malfoy had just given him.

"That one's mine. See, the one I had doesn't fit any of my fingers, except my left ring finger strangely. They must have gotten switched in the bathroom this morning."

"Wha… when… why do you have a ring that matches mine??" Harry was truly flabbergasted.

"Don't ask me, Wonder Boy, just give me my ring back." He stretched his hand out in the same manner that Harry had, palm upward, waiting for something to be dropped into it. Harry reluctantly complied, still not believing his eyes. Draco took the ring between his thumb and forefinger, looked it over, and once satisfied, slipped it onto his right middle finger. "Thanks," he simply said, and walked out of the classroom as if he had no worry in the world. Harry stared after him, his ring clutched in his hand, his mind whirling at the thought of sharing rings with _Draco Malfoy_.

Why was his life so complicated?

After-chapter noteage: Well that was the quickest chapter I've ever written. And all because of the lovely reviews that I've received! I can't thank you all enough for your support! I hope you'll continue to do so… And for the next chapter… let's shoot for twenty reviews before the next one! (I'm hoping that'll give me a tad bit more time to write) I don't know if the rest of the chapters will be quite this long, but I needed to get the plot rolling. I'm just lucky that I had a few spare moments at work every now and then when I could jot down a paragraph or two…

Now I need you all to vote. First person POV or third person POV? Will Lizzie be rewriting a chapter? Only time and votes will tell!

Oh yeah! I'm also looking for a beta reader. Not someone to check for grammar and spelling, I'm pretty good about that, but more for checking the flow and organization of it all. If interested, check out my profile for contact info!


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: I'm finding it a little hard to motivate myself right now, even though I promised myself that I'd write something every single night. I'll probably make up for my lack of productivity by spending my spare moments at work writing. I guess I'll leave it in third person. I've had a couple of people tell me not to bother rewriting the first chapter, and to just update as fast as possible, so that is heartening I suppose. This story has gotten me the most reviews I've ever received, EVER. It makes me feel happy and squishy inside.

Oh, a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY to Tom Felton!! He turned seventeen on the 22nd of September, and now can drive!! Hehehehe, I love him… my darling Draco Malfoy (and Louis Leonowens).

Disclaimer: Think of the wittiest, most clever disclaimer stating that I don't own this, and pretend that I said it right here.

Chapter 2

The incident involving the ring had spread all over the school by lunchtime, and the end of the day couldn't come fast enough for Harry. After Transfiguration Harry had been hounded nonstop about where he had gotten his ring. No matter how much he tried to tell people that he just couldn't remember, they wouldn't stop asking. Some girls thought that he was lying so that he could keep the secret all to himself. Frankly, Harry was starting to get a little irritated with the questions, and it was showing in his demeanor.

By the time that Harry reached the Gryffindor common room (taking the longest and most remote route possible to avoid coming across anyone), his expression had turned from the mild irritation it held previously in the day to something meant to keep anything and everything up to and including Norwegian Ridgebacks at a distance of ten feet. Of course, girls with schoolyard crushes are far scarier that mere dragons. And much more persistent.

Harry hadn't gotten three feet from the entrance to the common room before he'd been spotted, and inevitably swarmed by the entire population of first through sixth year Gryffindor girls. It was hard to make out what most of them were saying to him, seeing as they were all speaking at once, but a few of the louder ones let their voices be heard.

"Harry, where did you get the ring?"

"Harry, you'll help us find one like it, won't you?"

"Please Harry, tell us!"

"You wouldn't keep this a secret from your own housemates, would you?"

The press of people against Harry was beginning to be unbearable, and his eyes started darting around, searching for an escape. It was no mean feat to find one, the girls were intent on finding out whatever the cost, and didn't seem to want to let him go.

It took a few minutes, but Harry finally found an opening through the throng of girls, and ducked through as quickly as possible. The pleading tones on the lovesick masses changed to protests as they followed him and tried to halt his escape. The frustration levels reached a peak as his robes were grabbed and tugged on slighting and the whining continued to grate on his already frayed nerves. He stopped in the middle of the common room and dropped his bag on the floor, startling everyone in there. With a determined expression on his face, Harry stood up on one of the low tables so as to be heard and seen by all in the vicinity.

"I don't know why the bloody hell you want to know where I got my ring," he began.

"Because I want to share a ring with Draco Malfoy!" a voice cried out. Harry raised his hand impatiently.

"I don't know why, and frankly I don't care. Just so I don't have to say this more than once tonight, let me tell you that I _cannot_ remember where I purchased it; therefore there is absolutely no reason for you all to keep asking me the same question over and over. So please stop."

Having finished his short speech, Harry stood down from the table and picked his things up amidst grumblings of 'that's not fair,' and 'I bet he just wants to keep the secret to himself.' He sighed and muttered "You're all nutters," before wearily climbing the spiral staircase to the dormitory.

His eyes roved across the room, pleased to find it empty for the time being. Cursing his fate under his breath, Harry dropped his bag on his trunk and flopped face down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow.

"It's a good thing Christmas holidays start next week, I think I really need a break from Draco-sodding-Malfoy." He turned over, kicked his shoes off next to his bed, and shifted himself so that he was lying correctly on his bed, rather than diagonally as he had been. His hands found their way behind his head, cradling it, and his ankles crossed themselves. His eyes stared up.

"It's been barely a day since we started fighting again, and I'm already tired of him," Harry mused out loud, closing his eyes and relaxing. "I can't believe that everyone thinks he's this nice guy now. Feh. If he's so nice, then what's with that attitude? And the mean remarks?" Harry shifted to his side.

"Of course, everyone else gets the nice treatment. Help with potions, kind words, but that just doesn't seem like Malfoy. The nicest he'd been to me was ignoring me up until yesterday." Harry sighed deeply there. "It felt weird to be ignored by him… like something was missing from my day…" A grim smile appeared. "It's good to know that we haven't changed in regards to one another. Too much else has changed."

Though closed, Harry's eyelids still gave the impression of heaviness. He could feel his body relaxing into his bed, and absently realized that he was still in his clothing but made no move to rouse himself and change. The last thought he had before he fell asleep was that he was glad that Malfoy was 'speaking' to him again.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

I realize that I'm obsessing over Malfoy lately, and that bothers me. Not in the way that it should, mind you. It bothers me that it's a one-sided obsession on my part. This thought keeps rolling around in my head as I wander the halls of the castle. It's after two in the morning, and I find that I can't sleep. This isn't anything new, it's a regular habit that I wish I didn't have. But one can't always control insomnia.

Wandering the halls of the castle is second nature to me. I know some of these drafty passages better than I know the neighborhood where I grew up. I can let my mind wander and my feet will take me where they will. And I do.

Before long the atmosphere changes. I no longer feel the chilled draftiness of the halls around my Tower, but the dank staleness of the dungeons. Somehow this doesn't bother me either. There's no one here, I have no worries. For now I just meander quietly along as I think. I'm not thinking about anything in particular, just peaceful images and snippets of murmuring voices from the past. I expect it to stay that way until I return to my Tower.

"Harry."

I'm startled. I turn around and quickly take in what's around me. A figure emerges from the shadows. One with blonde hair and silver-blue eyes. It was apparently his voice that said my name just now. I don't feel like fighting right now, so I just nod once at him.

"Malfoy."

"You can call me Draco, you know." Draco Malfoy gives me a slight smile. This, of all things, surprises me. I've seen him do many things with his mouth, but smile at me is not one of them.

It takes me a moment to find my voice.

"No, I can't," I say firmly. His smile turns into a smirk. I start to fiddle with the ring on my finger, and my eyes automatically find themselves looking for the very same ring on Malfoy's finger. It's there.

"Ah yes, of course. Would that be because you are incapable of formulating the words, or merely because you hate me?" His words are light, almost mocking, but with an undertone of sadness that is barely noticeable.

"I don't hate you," I reply automatically, shocking both of us. My mouth is hanging open, I can feel it. And as I examine my feelings, I know that what I said is true. "I don't hate you, Malfoy. I hate your attitude."

"I've changed."

"Not in my eyes."

I take a step back as Malfoy takes a step forward, and find myself trapped against a wall. Malfoy places his hands to either side of my head and leans forward. His lips are next to my ear. Before I can help myself, I whisper, "It made me sad when you ignored me."

I can feel my face turning red, and I can't help it. But instead of laughing at me, as I expect him to do, Malfoy merely exhales slowly. I can feel the warm air over my ear, and it makes me shiver slightly.

"Harry…" Malfoy whispers.

"What…" I barely manage to say.

"There's something I need to tell you."

I take a shuddery breath. This is beyond bizarre.

"Wake up Harry."

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Harry awoke suddenly, and stretched his curled up limbs. He simultaneously yawned, and then relaxed back into the softness of his bed. He scratched his head idly, and struggled to remember his rapidly fading dream.

'I remember the castle, and I remember talking… but nothing else.' He mentally shrugged. ''S not important right now.' Lazily Harry turned his head to face the window, and noted that the sky was starting to light up. He estimated that it would be about a half an hour before everyone else would wake. "Perfect time for a shower." He felt out of sorts, having slept in his clothing from the previous day, and wanted to rid himself of that feeling.

Harry dragged himself out of his bed and gathered his things for a shower. Padding his way barefooted to the bathroom, he stripped down and chose a stall. Fiddling with the knobs until the water was the perfect temperature, he proceeded to wash himself at a leisurely pace. He had neglected to take his ring off this time, and every stroke that ran across his skin left a tingly, slightly cold feeling behind from the feel of the metal and soap.

It was a pleasant change from most mornings when Harry was incredibly rushed, usually waking up late. He took his time, staying under the buffeting spray until his fingers started turning wrinkly, and he felt that the rest of his dorm were about to start stirring. With some regret, he turned the water off and toweled himself dry. He grabbed the clothes he'd brought to the bathroom and pulled them on.

"Hmm, even have time to try and do something with my hair." Harry grabbed a comb and stood before a mirror, attempting to tame his messy mop of hair.

A few strokes through, and it seemed like it was getting better. Harry 'hmm'ed softly, and said a spell to dry his hair. 'Heh, wandless magic, one of the most difficult techniques to master, and I use it to do my hair.' Harry grinned wryly at his reflection, which returned the favor. He noted with some disappointment that while his hair looked slightly neater, it still stood out in several directions in the patented Harry Potter fashion. Shaking his head, he drew the comb through a couple more times, before giving up completely. His hair would never behave, no matter how much he tried.

Harry gathered up his discarded clothing and put it in the hamper for the house elves to take care of, and stepped back into the dorm room. Some semblance of life was returning to his mates as they groaned and stretched, trying to wake themselves from unfinished dreams. He smiled gently at them and walked to the end of his own bed, where his bag had been dropped the night before.

Gathering his things, Harry went downstairs to the common room and thanked whatever deities were looking out for him that it was deserted. That meant that he would not have to deal with giggly girls trying to pump him for information. His weekend was already looking up.

His step was light as he made his way from Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry was in such a cheerful mood, that he didn't even notice when he was on a collision course with someone until he ran into them.

"I'm sorry, please excuse me," he apologized automatically, before looking up to see who he'd run into. For the second time in as many days, Harry was face to face with Draco Malfoy, who looked mildly amused. Harry felt his good mood slipping.

"Potter." Malfoy sounded civil.

"Malfoy," Harry spat back.

"I accept."

"What are you talking about?" Harry was desperately confused with Malfoy's last statement, and it showed clearly on his face. Malfoy gave a short laugh.

"Your apology."

"Oh. Well I wouldn't have apologized if I had known it were you." The venom in Harry's voice was unmistakable.

"Testy, aren't we this morning? Upset because we happen to share the same ring?" Malfoy shook his head. "Pathetic."

"No, Malfoy. I just hate you." Harry glared at Malfoy, whose face seemed to change expression for half a second, but went back to normal so fast that Harry thought he'd imagined it.

"Good day, Potter." Malfoy stalked off. Harry felt mollified that he hadn't been the one to run away first. And yet something in the back of his mind bugged him, words he couldn't quite grasp.

'I don't hate you… I just hate your attitude.'

After-chapter noteage: Well, that took longer than I anticipated, but a lot has gone on. My brother is leaving for basic training for the Navy today, and I wanted to finish this chapter before I left to see him off.

That dream was difficult, let me tell you. I dislike writing in present tense, and first person is difficult for me as I mentioned before. Hopefully it had the desired effect, though. I wanted it to stand out, to be different. Tell me what you think!

I want to say thank you everyone for reviewing, you don't know how much that boosts my confidence. I would surreptitiously check for reviews at work, and whenever I would get one, it would make me much more cheerful with the customers. So not only do you guys motivate me to write, you guys get me good comments at work, too!

This is the place where I mention all of you by name, so thank you immensely to: Khrystyne, Kreyana, Lyonessheart, Emerald Dragon08, LadyofGrey, lestat-draco646260, Brenna8, samantha, Without Permission, Faye407, Madame.x.mlp, Losing Grip, Beloved, Kreyana, KeyvieSnape, Blaze, Katrina, Lady Lirimaer, and especially to Sanguis Magia who has graciously offered to beta for me. You all are my raison d'etre!!

And one more thing… it seems that asking for twenty reviews is a bit much for now. So I'll settle for ten before the next chapter comes out. Hope you're all as excited to see what happens next as I am to write what happens next!

NEXT CHAPTER: Harry eats breakfast, and rumors circulate. Christmas is on its way… Harry thinks he'll be alone at Hogwarts. Oh how wrong he is.


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: I've put of doing this for more than two days, but my goal is to have this chapter out by my birthday!!! So here we go!

Disclaimer: Blah blah not mine blah blah

Chapter 3

Harry trudged into the Great Hall and sat heavily down at the Gryffindor table. He didn't bother lowering his voice as he vocally cursed Malfoy (without magic) for ruining his morning, and only the loud 'thud' of his book bag hitting the floor interrupted him. Viciously, the disgruntled boy broke off from his verbal barrage and grabbed a muffin. Without preamble, he roughly tore a chunk out of it with his teeth. Harry knew he was acting savagely, but he didn't care.

Next on his breakfast hit list was sausage, which Harry showed no mercy to. He was lucky that he was mostly alone for this display of Neanderthal consumption of food; it would have frightened nearly everyone out of their wits to see him behaving this way. As it was, the few people who were there had their food stopped between the table and their mouths, staring agape at the spectacle. All but one person, seated at the Slytherin table. He looked on with a spark of amusement reminiscent of Dumbledore's in his eyes.

After mauling more of his breakfast than he ate, Harry left the Great Hall, sneering at the Slytherin table on the way out. Malfoy stared benignly back. This only served to fuel Harry's mood and his scowl deepened.

"Hey Harry, watch out!" Before he knew what hit him, Harry had run headlong into Hermione.

"Second time today," he muttered, and moved to go around her. He almost made it, but found that Ron was in his way.

"Harry, mate, what's the matter?" Ron asked with some concern. Harry seemed preoccupied and more than a little pissed off.

Harry said something too low for Ron to hear, and ended his mini-rant with "stupid Malfoy." Ron gave him a knowing look.

"You know, you could try and give him a chance. It would save you a headache."

"And Harry, you know he isn't exactly evil. He fought for our side after all," Hermione added.

"That just means he's not evil. I still think that he's the sneaky bastard we came to know over the years."

"Can you prove that, Harry?" Hermione asked gently.

"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I met him in the bathroom yesterday morning."

Ron's eye opened wide and he grinned. "Ooooooh reeeeeally now?" Harry gave his best friend a disgusted look, as if to call him a pervert.

"Yes. And he acted as if it were two years ago. Sneers, insults, haughtiness… It was the Malfoy we've known."

"Hmm." Ron's expression had mellowed from a grin to an amused smile. Hermione merely looked thoughtful.

"Well mate," Ron said, "it sounds like he really hates you."

"Or he really likes you," Hermione interjected. Harry's mouth fell open.

"You're joking, right? Please say you're joking," he choked out. Hermione shrugged.

"Dunno." She gave him a mischievous smile. "Would you mind if he did?" Harry spluttered.

"Yes!" He stared at his two best friends as if they had both grown two extra heads apiece. Ron laughed loudly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure she's kidding. Or way off base at least."

"Better be…" Harry mumbled, moving to leave.

"Where are you going?" Ron asked. Harry looked back, no stopping his stride.

"Library."

"Oh." Hermione gave him an approving look. "Well we were going to ask if you wanted to come to Hogsmeade with us…" Harry shook his head.

"Sorry, too much homework."

"Becoming an Auror is going to take all the fun out of you, mate!" Ron called to Harry, who stuck his tongue out in response. Ron grinned and slipped his arm through Hermione's, much to her surprise. Harry smiled and felt his mood lift slightly. He was so glad that Ron had been more cheerful lately, and he knew that it had a lot to do with the fact that he had received a letter saying that Bill had woken from his coma and was on the path to recovery.

Finally Harry felt that things were going back to normal, that things were starting to feel right again.

"All except Malfoy, damn him." As soon as he spoke, Harry's mood fell again. He had been happy with the status quo, and Malfoy had upset the balance. Also, it disturbed him that everything seemed to come back to the blonde-haired Slytherin lately. Harry gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop thinking of him.

After all, he had homework to do.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

The trip to the library was uneventful, Harry knew the castle well enough from his experiences in previous years that he could navigate the back passages with his eyes shut. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all proud to say that they had been through and seen more of Hogwarts than all of the students and some of the faculty. Therefore, ducking into an adjacent hallway when he saw someone coming did not serve to get him lost, as it would have to most any other student.

Once Harry reached the library, he slipped in as quietly as possible, hoping to go unnoticed by the few people who were there. It was nearly deserted, much to his relief; it was a Hogsmeade weekend and the only ones there were a few first and second years and the odd Ravenclaw studying for NEWTS. Half-smiling to himself, Harry made his way over to a remote section of the library and set his things down, intending on getting to work.

He pulled out his potions textbook, hoping that it would cease to be written in Greek and reveal its secrets to him. Harry's most difficult subject was potions, that was no secret, but it wasn't for lack of aptitude. He certainly had the makings of a fine potion brewer, not a master though, but it was the archaic language that the instructions were written in that always threw him. At first, his frustration with not understanding his own language coupled with Snape's overt dislike of him had put him off the entire subject. For five years, in fact. But with Hermione's help in unraveling the mysteries of the lyrical language of potions, he had managed to not only surprise himself with his potential, but also earn the grudging respect of the potions master.

Snape and Harry still had their disagreements, those were the stuff of Hogwarts horror stories (much like how his and Malfoy's rivalry was the stuff of Hogwarts legend), but Snape refrained from finding excuses to dock points from Gryffindor, and Harry refrained from finding excuses to provoke him. All in all, it made for a relatively peaceful sixth year… until the war finally broke out in full force.

Harry set his textbook aside and leaned back in his chair, running the end of his quill over his upper lip thoughtfully. In retrospect, the war had been relatively short, but brutal. It had only lasted about two months; two months that seemed to age everyone involved by two years. Harry, who had never had the opportunity to experience a carefree childhood, felt the role of an adult thrust upon him when he was eleven, and the responsibilities only increased with the war.

Harry's eyes turned melancholy, and he leaned further back in his chair, tipping it onto the rear two legs. There had been so many casualties of war, so many innocent lives lost. Most of the students had been spared – they stayed at Hogwarts for the duration, along with as many others that would flee their homes for the safety of the school grounds. Dumbledore had cordoned off a section of the school for the refugees to live in, and tried to keep life as normal as possible. Classes had continued, and the Headmaster made a point not to let the war interfere with life if he could possibly help it. Hogwarts had been a safe haven.

But there had been those who were too stubborn to flee in the face of the Dark Lord. Percy Weasley had been one of them. Stubborn to the end, not even having made amends with his family. A fact that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley regretted deeply.

There were also the families of the Muggle-born students, that couldn't be helped. Many died at the cruel hands of Voldemort before he was stopped. Hermione was lucky, she didn't lose her family, but she came close. Hermione had convinced her parents to relocate to the States for a while, about a week before Death Eaters attacked the Muggles in that neighborhood. It had been unnerving for her, and she had spent a lot of time not speaking; reflecting on the predicament.

Harry had felt for her, it had been her first time dealing with the happenings of war on a personal level. Something like that always had been and always would be very difficult to come to terms with. Fortunately, her family was safe and she only had the 'what if' thoughts to deal with. Those, while painful in their own right, are never as bad as dealing with an actual loss.

"Excuse me?" Harry was startled from his wandering thoughts by the sound of a small, timid female voice in front of him. He opened his eyes and leaned the chair forward until it was sitting normally on the floor again. He was met with the sight of two girls shyly standing on the other side of his table, fidgeting slightly.

"Can I help you?" Harry asked politely. The girl on the left, a Ravenclaw second year, blushed slightly and the girl on the right, a Hufflepuff first year, giggled. Harry waited quietly for the girls to recover their wits. He was being infinitely patient, thinking that he knew what they were there about, but tolerating it. For the moment.

"Yes, well…" the Ravenclaw began, but didn't continue. The Hufflepuff took this as her cue to jump in.

"We have a favor to ask of you," she said softly. Harry raised an eyebrow and unconsciously his hand drifted over to his ring and began fiddling with it.

"Oh? How can I be of assistance?" Harry decided to play dumb, even though he figured that they were going to ask him about where he'd gotten his ring, like every other person who'd talked to him lately had done. He was greatly surprised.

"Well, we'd heard about you and Draco Malfoy… seeing each other, and… well, we came to ask you to stop."

"Yes, it's… well, some of us think that it's not fair. The two best looking guys in school being taken, and by each other. No one else has a chance." The Ravenclaw found her voice again. Harry looked from one to the other incredulously.

"What?"

"And… you and Draco Malfoy never got along very well anyway. Is this just some kind of fling? Because… lots of us are really sad about this… and…" the words trailed off and the girls stood there waiting for a response. Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I'm not having this conversation…" He put his face in his hands and shook his head. After a few seconds, he looked up again. "Listen girls, I think you have some facts incorrect. First off, I'm not seeing Malfoy. I don't even like the guy. Secondly, no matter what you think, people shouldn't ask someone not to see someone else because 'it isn't fair.' That in itself isn't fair to those involved, if they're happy together. Not that Malfoy and I are. Happy or together." Harry made a face that looked vaguely disgusted. The girls looked ashamed. "So while I'm happy to say that your efforts were unnecessary, please think before you do something like this again, okay?"

The girls nodded, and turned to flee. Harry let them, to save them a bit of embarrassment.

'To think… people think that Malfoy and I…' He shuddered. "UGH."

Harry reached again for his potions textbook, thinking that he'd done enough idle thinking for the day, and tried to lose himself in the world of magic turned matter.

He didn't get very far, however, before he was interrupted yet again by another set of voices. These, however, weren't directed at him, he just happened to catch the conversation. It was a pair of Slytherin girls, and Harry's interest was piqued when he heard his name mentioned.

"So what do you think is going on with Draco and Potter?"

"I'm not sure. They have the matching rings, but their attitudes…"

"You heard about that, too?"

"Yeah. Two hour ago, in front of the Great Hall. Potter practically blew up at Draco for no reason. And I heard from a good source that yesterday they were in a bathroom together."

Silence. Harry grimly thought that he could hear one of the girls grinning.

""No, get your mind out of the gutter. They were fighting."

"Just like old times, eh?"

"Yeah, but there's something off about it."

"I think that the rumors are true."

"They're dating? Maybe. You think they're shagging yet?"

"Well if they're not, then they will be soon."

"What about the fighting, though?"

"A cover. I think they don't want anyone to know that they're together."

"Pretty flimsy cover. Sure, it would have worked last year, but Draco's changed."

"Yeah."

A short silence followed in which a disgruntled Harry gathered his things and started to leave. He couldn't take listening to the inane gossip about himself and his worst enemy any more.

"You'd think that Draco would have better taste than a Gryffindor."

"Potter's hot though. I'd want him…"

Harry bit back the urge to scream and made his escape as quickly as possible.

"I'll just do my damn homework in the dorm," he fumed, practically marching through the halls, the conversation he overheard running through his mind. The only coherent response he could think of to the speculation was 'How dare they?'

Harry thought that by now he'd be used to his being talked about due to his fame, but paparazzi and nosy reporters had nothing on gossipy teenage girls.

"Mr. Potter." At the sound of his name being spoken by a familiar yet unwelcome voice, Harry looked up from the stone floor where his gaze had been riveted.

"Professor Snape…" Harry bit his lower lip and his left hand automatically went over to play with the ring on his right hand, an occurrence that was rapidly becoming a nervous habit.

"Lucky I ran into you." Snape looked less than amused.

"Sir?"

"I wanted to inform you that your detention is to be served after the holidays have ended." Snape smiled. Respect or no, he still savored every opportunity to give detention to the Golden Boy of Hogwarts.

Harry nodded. Snape inclined his head and left Harry, his robes swirling in the patented Snape way. Harry slumped against a wall and wished for the thousandth time that his life could be simpler.

"Did you know that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are dating?"

"Yes, I'd heard! It's disappointing… but you know, it's kind of hot. They're just so good looking."

"Yeah… Do you think that they'd let people watch them make out?"

"I don't know…"

Harry listened with a deepening despair as more people walked past talking about his and Draco's nonexistent relationship. There had to be something that he could do to quell the burgeoning rumors, all he had to do was think about it. A strategy was what he needed… maybe Hermione could help.

Harry straightened up and squared his shoulders. He was going to walk to the Gryffindor common room with as much dignity as he could muster. First he would do his homework and wait for Ron and Hermione to come back from Hogsmeade. Then the planning could begin.

After-chapter noteage: Okay, I think I lied. Christmas isn't this chapter, but it was getting to be towards the two-week mark since I last updated, and it was starting to bug me. So I cut it a tad short. That, and yesterday was my birthday, and I'd promised myself that I'd update on my birthday. Missed by a few hours… oops. (Because of this lateness, this chapter is un-beta-ed. Apologies for any mistakes.) But yes, I turned 21! Everyone celebrate with me!!!

As a gift… you can review!!! I would love you forever, and give you a chapter by next Wednesday, hopefully! The more reviews, the happier Lizzie is. The happier Lizzie is, the more she feels like writing!

Oh, I have a C2!! Everyone should subscribe!! It's all about Harry and Draco slash fiction, and because I'm insanely picky about what I'll read, everything there will be of high quality. At least in my eyes. ...JOIN!!!

Anyone know where I can find an entry-level phlebotomy job? I'm quitting my job at the end of October (I'm just tired of my boss… he's a jerk) and while that will give me more writing time, I need a means of supporting myself. Seriously, if it's a guaranteed job, I will move anywhere in the country.

I miss my brother…

Next Chapter: Christmas approaches… I promise!


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter 4

When Hermione and Ron got back from Hogsmeade, Harry immediately told them about the rumors he'd overheard. To Harry's chagrin, their reactions weren't what he was expecting. Ron nearly fell on the ground with laughter, while Hermione held him up, grinning about the entire thing. It wasn't until Harry started marching off to his dorm that they tried to control themselves and promised to be serious.

The three of them were up late into the night brainstorming schemes to save Harry's reputation. Harry couldn't wait to implement the plan that they eventually settled on, but the Christmas holidays were too close.

But Harry could wait patiently. It wasn't like he'd have anyone to worry about over Christmas.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the Burrow with us? It's not too late to change your mind you know."

"Yes Ron, I'm sure. Thanks for the invite, but I just want to be alone this year." Harry shrugged.

"Ron, stop pestering him! Goodbye Harry, see you after the holidays!"

"Bye Ginny… have fun!"

"You know you can floo if you need anything mate." Ron was being dragged forcefully to the train by his sister, but he endeavored on. "Like, if you get lonely or anything… I mean, I don't think anyone else is staying at Hogwarts for the holidays."

Harry nodded. "I know. I was hoping for that. I'll floo if anything happens. Now go!" He pushed Ron, who reluctantly turned away.

"Bye Harry," Hermione said from behind him. Harry turned around and hugged her.

"Have fun!" he admonished with a smile and a hug. "It's not every day that you spend the holidays with your boyfriend's family."

Hermione's cheeks tinged pink. "Please don't say it that way… it sounds so… grown up. I'm not sure I'm ready to be grown up."

"That makes two of us, 'Mione."

"Break it up you two!" Ron called back to them affectionately. Hermione giggled and Harry let her go.

"I'll see you guys after the holidays," Harry smiled. Hermione nodded, turned, and walked over to the train. Before boarding, she turned and waved. Harry waved back at her, and continued to do so even as the train started moving and took off toward the horizon. When he could no longer see the train in the distance, he put his arm down, gathered his winter cloak closer to himself, and began the trek back to school.

After the exhilarating walk from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, Harry went straight to the Gryffindor dormitories to revel in the silence. Most people would be sad to be alone during the holidays, but Harry was an exception. After the Dursley's… and sharing a room with the boys in his year… peace was something that Harry didn't see very often. And he intended on spending every moment he had catching up on his lounging. Some might call him lazy (Hermione came to Harry's mind), but considering the sort of life he'd known since Hogwarts and Voldemort, and even before with his 'family,' Harry really couldn't find any fault with a little harmless lounging.

Once inside the common room, Harry stopped, listened, looked around, and smiled. Alone at last. He spent all afternoon just sitting on the couch in front of the fire in the common room. It was warm, he was cozy, and life at that moment was great. For just a second in time he had no expectations, nothing to live up to, no worries in the world. And it felt lovely.

When dinnertime rolled around, Harry was still dozing in the common room, and didn't make it down to the Great Hall. It didn't matter in his mind at all, though. As far as he knew, he would be alone in the student's section. He hadn't heard of anyone else signing up to stay over the holidays.

What Harry wanted this break was some alone time. There hadn't been a time that he'd been able to remember where he'd been alone to relax for more than a day or two. There were those rare times when the Dursleys went on vacation and couldn't get Mrs. Figg to watch after him, but they never trusted him to not burn down the house for more than two days.

Harry's dreams were peaceful, almost too peaceful. He dreamed of whiteness. Unbroken, pure unadulterated whiteness, like an empty canvas waiting for paint. It was rather disconcerting for him to be dreaming of such utter _nothing_, and he woke with a start.

"That was kind of weird," he muttered, stretching his cramped limbs. Ever since Voldemort had been defeated, Harry's dreams had gone back to normal, but he'd never had one quite like that before.

His stomach rumbled loudly, and Harry laughed. He was not one to skip meals usually, and when he did his body made it known. He took the hint and got up from the couch where he'd ended up sleeping, searching out a clock. It read 6:45. Perfect, Harry had just enough time to take a quick shower before breakfast would be served.

Shortly after seven, Harry arrived at the Great Hall and made his way directly over to the Gryffindor table, where there was a table setting for one. As soon as he sat down food appeared, and he began dishing himself up some of the tasty breakfast fare. Harry was content, planning on having a nice, leisurely breakfast and then perhaps going for a walk around Hogwarts grounds. He'd noticed through a window that it had snowed the night before, creating a new, fresh blanketing over the previously trampled snow.

"Well, well, I didn't know you were capable of functioning this early in the morning, Potter." A horribly familiar drawling voice sounded from behind Harry, and the dark-haired boy was afraid to turn around and acknowledge it, hoping that it was just a figment of his imagination. "Imagine, if you could do this every day instead of just on holidays, your grades could have been better."

"Malfoy," Harry groaned in defeat, "what are you doing here?" The fork Harry was holding dropped to the table and his hands went to cover his eyes.

"Well I saw you sitting there alone, and I figured I'd come to keep you company. You should be grateful to me."

"No, Malfoy. What are you doing at Hogwarts? Don't you have a mansion to be at and Christmas parties to attend?" The irritation seeped clearly through Harry's words.

"Yes, well, I was tired of having to attend all those parties, and since its seventh year, I thought I'd stay and get some extra studying in. Besides, I don't have a whole lot to return to… What's your excuse? Why aren't you with Weasley?"

"Because, Malfoy," Harry chanced a look behind him through his fingers, "I wanted to be alone." Pushing his plate away from himself, Harry got up from the table, finding that his appetite had been ruined by Malfoy's arrival. "Now if you'll excuse me," Harry inclined his head in an imitation of politeness as he began walking away from the table and out of the Great Hall, leaving a dumbfounded Draco Malfoy behind.

The trek to Gryffindor Tower was relatively short, seeing how Harry wanted to get out of the castle as soon as possible. He couldn't believe that he wouldn't be alone this Christmas after all.

'Well, we'll only see each other at mealtimes, if I can manage to keep myself to the Tower,' he thought resignedly.

Harry grabbed his winter cloak, gloves and broom from his dormitory and started for the door, but stopped mid-stride. A small, playful smile appeared on his face, and he donned his winter clothing and threw the window of the dorm open. Climbing up onto the windowsill, he clutched his broom tightly in one hand. He took a deep breath, and launched himself into a broom-less dive from the tower window.

The wind pushing against his face was absolutely exhilarating, and Harry drew out the sensation, holding off as long as possible on pulling his broom in front of him and mounting it midair. He most certainly did not have a death wish, and so he kept tabs on the ground.

About fifteen feet from the ground, Harry mounted his broom and rode it the rest of the way down, decelerating quickly. He pulled up and dismounted, slinging the Firebolt over his shoulder and starting off toward the lake.

The snow made a soft, almost wispy noise as he trod carefully through it, and the grey clouds overhead held the promise of more to come. The air around him was crisp and silent, and the absolute stillness was tangible. Harry smiled at the peacefulness, but it was a sad smile.

He approached the usually gently lapping water of the lake to find it had been frozen over. The ice didn't look very thick, and this was confirmed as Harry ventured a foot out and was met by the sound of cracking. Harry set his broom gently down, and pulled his wand out to charm a dry place to sit. The task accomplished, he settled himself down and tucked his knees under his chin.

Harry stared out past the frozen lake. He stared past the scenery, seeing it but not _really_ seeing it. After a few minutes, his vision began swimming in front of him, and a teardrop fell from his eye. For these two weeks, he was going to bask in the solitude, but he was also giving himself time to grieve. His emotions had been bottling themselves up since the end of Harry's fifth year, and the combined pressure of events demanded release.

Sirius' death was horribly depressing, and Harry had spent two days in his bedroom with no food or light before deciding that him brooding wouldn't bring his godfather back. So Harry pushed it to the back of his mind, as something to deal with later. He'd made a conscious effort to try and act as he always had, but he was aware that his smile didn't quite reach his eyes a lot of the time. No one had brought it up, but he'd noticed Hermione shooting him worried looks when she thought he wasn't looking.

That always brought a genuine smile to Harry's face; he was grateful that he had such caring friends. Of course, they could get a bit annoying with the prying they did, but he understood that they were concerned for him, so he didn't hold it against them. And they usually knew when to stop.

They were who he fought for in the war. He knew that under the weight of the hopes of the _entire_ wizarding world alone he would have been crushed. But with his two best friends in his mind, and only them, he had gone out and done what he'd had to. He saved the world for them.

So many had been sacrificed in the process, though. Hagrid, for instance. Voldemort had taken great pleasure in torturing the half-giant in front of Harry. It had been a way to draw him out, because Voldemort knew that he'd never leave a friend to face a fate like that. He'd been right, but it had cost him his life. Voldemort died there, next to the fallen body of Hagrid.

Silent sobs wracked his body as Harry shed a tear for each and every person who had to suffer throughout Voldemort's reign of terror. So caught up in his grief was he, that he didn't notice the footsteps approaching him from behind.

The clouds opened themselves up, and Harry found himself being gently covered in snowflakes, but he didn't care, nor did he care that his tears were almost freezing on his cheeks. All he cared about was releasing some of the pent up emotions he'd held on to, so that he could move on.

"Well if it isn't an ice statue with the likeness of Harry Potter," Draco Malfoy's voice cut through some of Harry's grief and awoke the familiar irritation in him. He, however, chose to ignore the blond boy and instead refocused on the lake's shining surface.

"Cat got your tongue, Potter?" Malfoy moved to stand next to Harry and crossed his arms over his chest. Harry looked up at him with pain-filled eyes, and opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it before turning back.

This lack of response obviously confused Malfoy, who stood there with his mouth hanging slightly open and staring at Harry's tear-streaked face. Harry glanced up when he felt Malfoy's gaze on him, and they silently regarded each other. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry finally broke the silence that had settled around them.

"That ring, it looks better on you than it does on me." His voice was thick from crying. Malfoy's eyes looked startled for a moment before his features settled into a smirk.

"Of course it does. My hands are nicer."

Harry rolled his eyes while simultaneously sniffling and wiping his face off with his sleeve.

"I hate you."

"The feeling is mutual." With a swift movement, Malfoy leaned over and shoved Harry into the snow next to where he was sitting. Laughter acompanied his leisurely retreat back to the castle, as Harry lay there in the cold, not bothering to right himself. His grief was suddenly forgotten.

"You're so dead, Malfoy."

After-chapter noteage: Well… I'm a little late. Please accept my humble apologies! I just got dragged down by this chapter for some reason. This actually wasn't what I intended, there was more, but I figured that the private war between Harry and Draco could wait for one chapter. I will get that written as soon as possible, but it may not be posted until I return from my trip to Chicago.

I was wondering if anyone was interested in my writing this from Draco's point of view after I finish the story? I've been writing it in my head as I write Harry's side of it, and I think that it would be fairly enlightening. But I'm not going to bother if there's no interest.

Anyway, please enjoy!!! And thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you to all my wonderful reviewers!! I can't believe that I've gotten this many… it's almost surreal, but in a good way! And many thanks to Hannah, my beta, who waited patiently for me.

Next chapter: With the entire castle to themselves, Harry and Draco find ways to occupy themselves that don't include studying…


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